


Arson or Ambience?

by SoYoureClairevoyant



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Craving control, Light Angst, Pre-Canon, Roommates, Science Bros, Yuuri is friends with all the skaters, let's be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoYoureClairevoyant/pseuds/SoYoureClairevoyant
Summary: Yuuri satisfies his need for control by setting a small fire. Phichit is not amused, and Chris has advice.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont & Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Arson or Ambience?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an actual conversation I've had with my beta, napsushi. As always, you are a chaotic gremlin, but the best beta I have.

There he was. Japan’s Ace, one of the rising figure skaters in the men’s division, beloved by all and devoted to one, the entrancing Yuuri Katsuki, and he stood in completely still in front of the kitchen sink. The only signs that he was still alive were the steady in and out of his breathing and the occasional slow blink of his intense brown eyes. His oversized blue hoodie hung limply from his shoulders, and by the looks of it, it had been recently washed - a bad sign to those who knew him. His matching gray sweatpants dragged on the linoleum floor, still new but big enough to accommodate his skater’s physique.

This is the sight that greeted Phichit Chulanont as he emerged from his afternoon nap in his own deep green threadbare t-shirt and soft navy sleep shorts. Well, that and the fresh smell of sulfur, like rotting eggs and charred wood. Blegh. Moving quietly so as to not spook the doe-eyed darling, he leaned against the counter separating the kitchen area from the living area. From this angle, he could see his roommate steadily lighting a fresh match and holding it to something in the basin of the sink. 

“Yuuri?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Yuuri’s eyes remained focused on his task, but his voice was casual and friendly as usual. Concerned and amused at the dichotomy before him, Phichti attempted to call his roommate free of his stupor.

“Whatcha doin’, buddy?”

“Lighting cotton balls on fire in the sink.” Yuuri lit another match. Lifting himself onto his toes, Phichit craned his neck and could barely see the charred remains of fluffy whiteness. Cotton.

“Why?”   


“So I can put them out fast if the flame gets too big,” Yuuri answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Phichit was not convinced, He raised one eyebrow and tried again, keeping his voice level, if a bit more high-pitched than usual.

“Okay, so I shouldn’t have to ask this. Why are you lighting cotton balls on fire at all?”

“Oh. Well, I had an urge.”

The younger man rubbed his face with his hands, preparing to take in new information from his chaotically-charged roommate and - he was almost ashamed to say - role model.“Explain.”

“Things feel out of control. I need my control back. So I light fires in the kitchen sink and I decide whether or not to put them out or let them fizzle.”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri lit another match and dropped it onto a small pile of cotton, leaving his hand outstretched and open above it. He looked like he was trying to control its trajectory with his mind, or, once the glow reached his face, casting a spell designed to decimate everything around him. The maniacal smile on his didn’t even even reach his eyes, not that it would have been reassuring. His voice dropped to what Phichit supposed was supposed to be a menacing tone but really just sounded like a sore throat. “I am their god. All cotton trembles before Katsuki Yuuri, skater of shitty programs.”

Phichit came around the small counter and discreetly slipped the matches not already in Yuuri’s hands into his own pants pocket. “Is this about the nasty fall you landed in front of that blonde girl in the pink outfit today? Because she was into it. I’m telling you, she was ready to play doctor with the internationally famous figure skater.”

Yuuri’s head whipped up from his sink flambe. “Shut up, Peach. Sadie is a friend. She’s seen me bow to her toilet at two in the morning after eating extra spicy curry at that Indian place and then cry over pictures of Victor.”

“First Olympics?”

“Chanel - Winter 2010.”

“Well, shit, Yuuri, why didn’t you tell me? I would have stopped encouraging her to ask you out.”

Yuuri made a grab for the bag of cotton balls at his side, grabbing a fistful and separating each one before tossing it into the basin with its brethren. “See, this is why I am lighting cotton on fire. Between falling on that  _ stupid  _ triple loop, my mom calling me about my tuition every five minutes, my 8am Saturday Chem lab kicking me in the ass, and you trying to set me up with every person we meet who shows the slightest interst, I need something I can control.” He paused as if considering whether to share any more, seemingly sick. “Also, I ate that leftover soup that was in the fridge and now my stomach hurts.”

Phichit gripped Yuuri’s arm, rubbing it sympathetically. Yuuri didn’t even seem to register he was being touched. “You idiot, you know better than that.”   


“I had my control for five minutes. Five whole minutes, and all I could do was eat expired Mexican soup.”

“I was totally wrong. You deserve some light arson, especially today of all days.”

Brown eyes broke their focus from the small pile of flames before him and snapped to concerned gray ones. “Why today of all days?”

“Yuuri, it’s Valentine’s Day. The day lovers around the globe profess it to each other publicly and then rub it in the faces of us single people, so they can feel secure in their shallow and unfulfilling relationships.”

A pause ensued that could have lasted three seconds or three hours because when it broke, Yuuri dropped the rest of his matches and tried to launch himself over the counter. He managed to get on top of it, but slid off the other side and onto the floor, a crumpled heap of limbs and polyester. Phichit, having remained where he was, only knew his friend was still alive from the strangled cries coming from him.

“Shit! Phichit, throw me my phone!”

The Thai calmly reached over the counter to the communal charger in the wall and unplugged a poodle-cased phone. He unlocked it (because he’s a nosy bitch) and dropped it into the waiting hand reaching up at him. “What is happening right now?”

“I forgot to call Chris! It’s his birthday today! What time is it in Zurich?”

“I dunno. Late o’clock?”

“Shit.”

The familiar chirp of an outgoing Facetime call pinged for only a moment before engaging. Clear, emerald-green eyes smiled up at the both of them from under soft golden curls.   


“CHris! Christophe! Hi.”

Chris sat with legs crossed under him on a large white comforter, clad in comfy sweats. “Yuuri, darling, I have never been left on read for so long! What kept you? And are you on the floor?”

Yuuri knee-walked over to the worn sofa in the living area and crawled up onto a seat, pulling his own legs to his chest. Chris was a friend; he could be mostly honest about what kept him away from his phone. “Oh, you know, the delivery of my weekly dose of existential dread. I really am sorry I forgot to call earlier. Happy birthday, Chris.”

“Thank you, but if we are talking about existential dread, then you ought to include me.” Chris reached out of frame for something and came back with a fluffy white cat. He stroked it lovingly as it sat purring in his lap. “How are we coping this --- morning? Though I suppose it’s still evening for you.”

“He’s lighting cotton balls on fire in the sink!” Phichit shouted from the kitchen, bent over as he tried to shovel a congealed mess of cotton and ash into a trash can with a spatula. Yuuri rolled his eyes, but Chris’s squinted with mirth.

“I like it. It’s risky and eco-friendly. Should I light a candle in solidarity?”

The sounds from the kitchen stopped abruptly. Yuuri waited on the sofa for his roommate to react, which didn’t take longer than a few seconds once he made the connection. “Candle. You thought of cotton balls before  _ candle?!” _

“We are two gremlins living in a university apartment. Do you see any candles sitting around?” Yuuri shot back.

Phichit dropped the trash bag and his makeshift shovel on the floor with as much noise as possible before stepping into a pair of sneakers and his jacket. “I’m taking ten dollars and going to the student center for candles, gremlin,” he said as he fished around in the “Bad Roommate Jar” for a few bills. He tucked them into a pocket and shot Yuuri a knowing look. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.  _ No more fires, Katsuki. _ I mean it. I can’t afford to pay damages on this place.”

“.....nothing with apples,” came Yuuri’s small voice, clearly repentant about the mess.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Arigatou.”

Phichit froze, weak for the way his roommate defaulted to Japanese when he was stressed and not doing well. He looked over his shoulder from the door and replied softly in Thai, “Yindī t̂xnrạb.”

Then there were two. Chris’s cat broke the silence with a pointed meow at the lack of pets, and the man himself broke it again with an understanding yet curious smile and a question.

“No apples? Is that a thing?”

“It is for me. Chris, you’re young and in control of your life. How do you cope?”

“Gracious of you to think I have any control whatsoever. We’re public figures, mon chere, we have zero control until we reach Victor’s level of accomplishment. However, there are things you can do to ease the discomfort. For example, what you were doing.”

“Committing arson?”   


“Creating ambience, darling. The only difference between the two is your attitude and what you set on fire.”

Yuuri looked suspiciously at his friend, the same way he looked when he dissected videos of his competition. “So candles?”

“Calming. Romantic,” Chris stated, “by yourself or with a partner.”

“Bonfires?”   


“Grounding, cozy, perfect for snuggling.”

“Cotton Balls.”

“Chaotic, but purifying and earnest.”

“Figures.”

“Everyone struggles, Yuuri.” Chris’s voice turned softer as he tilted his head fondly at the younger skater half a world away. “I don’t say that because yours don’t matter but to empathize. If you want to set things on fire, by all means do it. Burn down your controlled corner of the world and laugh in the face of destruction! But when the fires are put out and you feel centered again, rise from the ashes, unscathed and ready to fight for your life.”

“Chris, I appreciate the advice, but I’ve known you for like seven years now. When the hell did you have the time or patience to become so wise?”

He shrugged, seamlessly shifting back to the cheeky side of his personality. “I spend a lot of time in airports, and my best friend is a hot mess of a disaster romantic. Of the two of us, it falls to me to bring the “Mom Energy TM ,” he calls it.”

“You’re the Mom friend?”

“Of the two of us, yes, and he already got me an ugly t-shirt to prove it. The point is, mon chere, that if you need to feel in-control, then there are other ways to satisfy your urge for pyrotechnics. Also, please call me next time you light something on fire so I can join in the destruction.”

“I was their god, Chris! I was the cotton balls’ god!”

Chris shook his head fondly as he stared down suddenly intense brown eyes. “With your step sequences, you’re every skater’s god, Katsuki. You’d know if you’d actually talk to any of them at competition. Even Victor is intrigued—“

“Well, I’m sorry to have stolen the attention from your birthday, but I appreciate the advice.”

“Anytime! You know I live for controlled chaos.”

Yuuri couldn’t stop his snark. “I have seen you skate, yes.”

Chris froze for just a second, surprised, and burst out laughing. “Mon dieu, the sass in you, Yuuri Katsuki! You should let it out more often. I like it!”

Phichit chose that exact moment to slam the apartment door open and announce himself as well as his recent purchase

“YUURI ELEANOR KATSUKI! I HAVE FOUND THE SCENT THAT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!”

“Oh, Phichit’s back?” Chris asked, cat gone and curiosity intact. The young Thai skater smushed his face against his roommates, boundaries forgotten in his excitement.

“CHris, thank the gods you’re still here! I found a candle for Yuuri, but can you confirm that it smells like a certain silver-haired Russian Olympic Champion?”

Yuuri blushed fiercely, shoving him out of frame. “Peach, no!”

“Peach, yes!” Chris disagreed. “Bring him back, Yuuri, come on! What does it smell like?”

Phichit pulled a small magenta candle out of his shopping bag and turned it so Chris could see the label. “Are you ready for this? Think, fresh cut roses, leather and just a hint of rain.”

Yuuri looked back and forth between his phone and his roommate, embarrassed by his well-known hero worship yet just as eager to find out if the candle really smelled like Victor. Chris closed his eyes in thought, tilting his head slowly from side to side as if considering the question. He smiled slightly at his own conclusion.

“That’s not...entirely wrong…”

“Pichit, where are the matches?!”


End file.
